Never Give Up on Family
by Niphrehdil
Summary: It was always going to be Jesse. It was because Walter White was selfish.


It was always going to be Jesse. Always.

Walter had realized the moment he had watched Jane to choke on her own vomit. It was because Walter White was selfish.

He had never been a selfish man before – he had always been an under-achiever, humble, quiet even. He had watched his colleagues grow into greatness and into millionaires, keeping quiet as they used his inventions to their own gain. He had listened to the news of Grey Matter turning into a global business while he had been correcting high school exams on his small, dusty teacher's office.

But it was always going to be Jesse.

Because Walter was selfish when it came to him. He had realized it in three little moments.

* * *

First time had been when Jesse's wobbly knees had given in and he had clutched to Walter like a life-line, crying after Jane and his whole body shaking from heroin and grief. In the middle of a drug-den, in the middle of the floor, Jesse had held Walter tightly, and Walter had realized that he was never going to be able to let Jesse go.

He had tried, of course. Oh Lord, he had tried.

Gale would have been the perfect assistant. He knew chemistry, understood the magic behind chemicals falling into place. He knew what he was doing, and Walter could keep up a good conversation with him

But then Walter had watched Jesse's ruined face from the bottom of a hospital bed, listened to his empty threats about turning 'Heisenberg' in, about destroying Hank's career. Walter had watched as Jesse had tried to build a drug business of his own, but never succeeding. Walter had learnt that Jesse never, ever accepted the mistreatment of children.

Walter had watched, and never said anything. He had claimed to Skyler that Jesse wasn't his friend. And he hadn't been lying. Jesse wasn't 'a friend'. The definition didn't fit him.

Walter had tried to deny his own conclusions, tried to go around the fact of how much he cared for Jesse, despite the distance he had taken after Jane's death. He had almost believed his own lies.

* * *

The second time Walter had realized that he was selfish, was the day they were chasing the fly in the lab.

Gale would have never gone along with it. Gale would have complained, reasoned, probably called Gus. Gale would have never spent hours and hours chasing after a one damn fly. He would've walked out of the lab. But not Jesse. Jesse whined and nagged, yes. But he was instantly worried about Walter. For heaven's sake. Explaining some stupid stories about his dead aunt, trying to ask if Walter's cancer had spread. And then, despite everything, Jesse had helped him to chase down the stupid fly. Because Jesse always did what Walter told him to.

And as Jesse had climbed that ladder to get the fly, risking to break his neck, Walter had clung to the ladder with all his remaining strength. He had muttered apologies about Jane. The fly hadn't been the problem, it was _contamination_. Contamination in Walter's mind, in his heart, about what he had done to Jesse. By letting Jane die. And the contamination couldn't be cleaned out.

But when Walter had woken up from the couch in the lab the next morning, Jesse's hoodie tugged on top of him like a blanket and his shoes neatly on the side, it ached a little less.

When Mike had explained to Walter that things shouldn't be left half-way, that he should take _full measures_, of course Walter had known what Mike meant. He should have killed Jesse. Gotten him out of the picture, from causing trouble all the time. From endangering the whole business, time after time.

* * *

The third and last time Walter had realized how selfish he was, had been during the family dinner he had never eaten.

He had known Jesse would relapse. The moment he saw the news about the 11-year-old boy found dead on the streets. He knew Jesse would go after those two meth dealers. And Walter was very much aware that there were two of them, and only one of Jesse. That Jesse would hesitate with pulling the trigger, because he was good-hearted like that. That he would get himself killed. That those two bastards would put several bullets into Jesse, would leave him bleeding on the street. That Hank would probably smack himself smugly on the back when he'd hear the news.

And Walter knew that if he'd just sat there and ate his dinner, Jesse would be wiped out of the picture. Easily. Permanently.

But Walter also knew that it wasn't an option.

_"Never give up on family"_, Jane's father had said.

_"And I took his advice,"_ Walter had told Jesse.

By God, he had taken it. So Walter ran to his car, hit four red lights, and only pushed the pedal harder when those two drug dealers finally came into view. He would do it again without hesitation. Even if he could still hear how bones crushed under his tires.

It was because Walter knew he was selfish.

He was selfish.

Because he couldn't lose Jesse.

Jesse was his – his partner, his friend, his assistant, his…family. Jesse with all his baggy clothes, lame pop culture references, bad language and miserable car. Jesse with his stupid over-excitement and kindness, his good heart and loyalty. There had been several nights when Walter had lain awake at night, feeling guilty that he felt more affection towards Jesse than his own son. He barely knew Junior - or Flynn – whatever he liked to be called these days. But he did know Jesse. Walter even missed him when he was gone. He thought about Jesse all the time, because Walter was afraid of what kind of mess the kid could have gotten himself into.

Walter felt protective over Jesse.

He didn't want to ruin him.

He didn't want to make Jesse kill anyone – not even Gale. He wanted to shelter Jesse, to protect that bright light that burned in those blue eyes.

So yes. During those three times, Walter had realized he was selfish. He had realized that he could never take 'full measures' and kill Jesse. No. Because was ready to kill _for_ Jesse. And he had even told Gus that if they hurt Jesse, they'd lose him too.

Jesse was family. He was like a son to him. And you never give up on family.

Walter had tried so hard to stop it from happening, had tried to let Jesse go.

But no. Walter White was selfish. Whatever Gus thought it to be – misplaced fatherly feelings, familial love – it made Walter selfish. And it made him _dangerous_. He would kill them all if that was what it took. He wouldn't let anyone take Jesse from him. He wouldn't be able to bear the pain.

What was love, in the end? Fear of losing someone because they were so dear to you, or because you were afraid you _youself_ wouldn't be able to stand the loss of them?

Walter didn't know. He was too old to care about semantics.

He had fought against his affection for Jesse, but had lost that war. And a wise man knew to pick his fights. So he made his peace with it: he was selfish, he loved Jesse like a son. He would rip people apart for that. That was not his problem anymore. He just dealt with it.

_"Get them young and they're yours forever!"_ was what Jesse had said about the children in the drug business.

Oh, how right he had been.

Walter had learnt not to take sides in the underworld. That got you killed. Loyalty could never be bought, it had to be earned. Walter didn't know what he had done exactly to earn Jesse's loyalty, but he had it anyway. That's why he had been certain that Jesse would get into his car, drive to Gale's door and put a bullet to his head if Walter told him to. That Jesse would ruin himself in order to save Walter.

Maybe that was what love was – rather breaking yourself into pieces than letting the other one get hurt.

Walter didn't know how this all would end, or what would happen. But there was a calming sense of finality in the way he was certain of the only thing that mattered.

It was always going to be Jesse. Always.


End file.
